


The Missteps of Finding a Good Time (Parts 1 and 2)

by chillafterdark



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillafterdark/pseuds/chillafterdark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon prompted: sort of R rated but whatevs: first time they say i love you during sex (don't forget the sex lol)</p><p>This is kind of that. Except a bit more than R. I did not forget the sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh,  _fuck_!” Chris’s head snaps to the side, mouth closing around the pillow as his back bows. His nails tear at Will’s shoulders, trying to find purchase, something to ground him while Will fucks hard inside twice more before dragging out in one slow, agonizing stroke. He doesn’t stop until his cock has popped out and the slick head of it is just resting against the skin behind Chris’s balls. They’re both gasping but Chris feels like he is more undone than Will, who is mostly just grinning wickedly.

Will slides back in on another slow stroke and Chris can’t help but twist to face the other direction, breathing heavily and dragging his legs up to wrap tight around Will’s waist, holding him there and rocking against him, riding his cock in small, rough circles of his hips even though it’s not nearly enough.

Chris bites his tongue to stop from begging, then bites Will’s lips as he kisses him hard and whines into his mouth. The sex is amazing, the sex is always, unfailingly amazing. Mind-blowing, intensely unbelievably more than Chris ever really thought sex could be. While the rest of their relationship – still relatively new – trips and stumbles to find secure footing, when they’re naked together everything just flows.

Will doesn’t resume fucking into Chris nearly hard enough and he’s still grinning. Sex between them isn’t just about getting off together, it thrums through the air like so much more. It’s bewildering to Chris because he’s had sex before, lots of good sex, or so he’d thought, and now there’s  _this_.  

“Will,” Chris growls against his mouth, canting his hips again and digging his nails in more.

“You want it hard?” Will mumbles back, eyes blinking open, pupils blown and out of focus because he’s so close to Chris’s face. “Want me to fuck your tight body as hard as I can?”

Chris’s breath catches high in his throat when he tries to stop from whimpering, the hot catch of Will deep inside him, of Will’s hard stomach rubbing delicious over his cock. “ _Yeah,”_ Chris breathes because Will can  _talk_  and it’s one of the very best things in the world. “ _Please.”_

“Not gonna last,” Will tells him as he starts to fuck him properly. “Gonna fuck you until I come and it’s not gonna – oh  _god, Chris,”_ Will whines and his knees slip on the bed, changing the angle, making it all feel  _more_. “God, you feel so fucking good,  _oh, fuck_ , so fucking perfect for me, your tight –  _fuck,_ Chris,  _here,”_ and Will grabs at Chris’s hips and pulls them higher, angles him more so when he’s pushing in, hard and fast, it’s even deeper, noisy slick and Chris’s small noises of  _fuck_  are making Will’s whole body go tighter.

Chris smiles around a groan to think that maybe Will is just as undone as he. The talking always gives him away, the way Will falls apart around his words and seems to speak the most beautiful of truths as he fucks him.

Will forgets to talk, just for a moment, so Chris leans up to bite down on Will’s lips again, tugging and sucking as he licks into his mouth and makes Will’s hips hitch and then keep moving.

“Fuck you’re so hot, Chris, fuck,  _ChrisChrisshit.”_ Will swallows hard and goes back up on his hands, holding above Chris, hips still fucking into him but cold air sliding between them as Will stares down and sucks his own bottom lip. He swallows again and manages to say as he stares down, “Your eyes, Chris” before he collapses to kiss him and keep fucking. It’s relentless.

“You’re amazing,  _so amazing_. God,” and he bites down Chris’s chin and neck and back up and Chris gives into it, holding on, letting Will do what he wants because Will just wants him. Chris shoves a hand between them to squeeze around the base of his own cock, arching and bending, willing his body to wait until Will comes inside him, to watch it happen, because it never gets old.

An arm wraps under one of Chris’s legs, hoisting it higher, making Chris spread himself even more and rock up into every thrust. Chris whines, high in his throat again and slides his fingers into Will’s hair, twisting tight as he tries to get his body closer everywhere. “God, so good,” Chris mumbles and Will grins against his cheek.

 _“_ You’re taking me  _so_   _good_. Shit you’re so fucking – oh god,” he fucks in harder, balls slapping against Chris’s ass, dick stretching him beautifully and Will sounds lost in it. “God you’re…” and trails off again, his brow creasing, sweat dripping down his sides.

Chris would laugh at him if he weren’t so irrevocably turned on, so filled up and well-fucked and right-there-on-the-edge ready to come his brains out and then go again. So he twists in the sheets, bowing his back and tightening his grasp on Will’s body.

One last tilt of his hips up, his leg sliding higher still against Will’s back so his own knee is knocking right beside where his hand is still trying to grab at the skin pulled taut across Will’s shoulder blades. And when Will fucks in he moans, long and low and sounds too lost to speak. He still manages to mumble, out, “ _Fuck_ ,” and  _“Chris,”_ like he means it as Chris pulls his face around and down and crashes their lips together, eyes open, as Will fucks him again and again and must be so very close to the edge and—

Will’s mouth wrenches away, Chris’s eyes fall open, watching, body aching with holding back, and then Will says, “Fuck, I love you,” and buries himself deep.

Will coming is lost in a blur, the little thrusts of his hips, small strokes and the strong, deep throb in Chris’s ass barely even noticed because Will just said…

They haven’t said that yet. They have purposely not said  _that_  yet.

Vaguely, Chris registers that it’s his turn to come, that Will is almost finished, biting down on his neck like he’s really not meant to, pumping his hips slower and slower and then not at all. Now Chris needs to let himself go, let Will fuck into him a few more times and fist his cock and come between them and—

Chris’s cock isn’t softening, not in the least, his cock is still very, very interested, the fullness of Will inside him and pressing heavy over him still perfect, but his mind is reeling and he’s frozen to the spot because  _what the fuck was Will thinking saying that then?_ Shit.

And then he realizes, with growing unease, that Will is frozen, too. That makes it worse, Will’s face now pressed against Chris’s neck, his cock still buried deep and as the seconds tick by, oh, fuck, he’s going soft fast. The only movement between them is the still-fast breaths entering their lungs, expanding their pressed together chests and bellies, along with the soft shudders still teasing under Chris’s skin.

Chris bites his lip and wonders what the fuck he’s meant to do. Maybe if he just grabs his dick and… he slides a hand between them, feeling Will scramble a little to get some of his weight back on his knees, his cock slipping most of the way out and a quick hand reaching to hold the condom in place. Chris’s fingers wrap around himself and fuck that feels good, he whines a little, in spite of himself, head tilting back as he sets up a fast, tight stroke, willing himself to just come and then maybe they can roll apart and go and clean up and then…

Will just had to fucking say it,  _then_ , to  _him,_ and then fucking  _come._ Chris opens his eyes and Will slams his own shut, still just holding here, a heavy-half weight of spent, sticky body and – Chris squeezes his hand tighter and tries to arch and that’s not working for him at all. God, he wanted to get fucked to orgasm tonight, not awkwardly jerked while Will just  _hovers_.

“Will,” Chris half-snaps, half-whines, clearly frustrated. “A hand?” He realizes he sounds bitterly sarcastic and that’s not sexy. Shit.

“Right, fuck,” and Will tries to slide the rest of the way out and fuck back in but his cock is clearly done for the night and it’s the most unsatisfying feeling in the world, soft dick, loose, already-used, slipping off condom – and jesus they really need to have  _that_  talk as well – just rubbing against Chris’s hole. “Fuck,” Will mumbles again, his cheeks going red as he rolls away.  

Chris just lays there, hand loose around his cock now, staring at the ceiling. He’s trying to process, trying to find a way out of what just happened because it was so good a minute ago and now it is all way too hard to even understand, not when half his blood seems to be in his dick and his whole brain feels fuzzy. He calls for Will without meaning to and then looks to see him, naked in the bathroom door, palming a tissue from his cock to his belly button and then tossing that and the condom into the trash.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there, baby,” Will tells him, a promise but still not quite meeting his eye as he crawls back onto the bed, pulling Chris’s legs apart by his ankles, and then leaning into him and kissing at the crease of his thigh.

Will’s hands leave Chris’s ankles, letting his feet bounce on the bed either side of where Will is kneeling. He slides a hand up Chris’s cock and then tightens his fist, begins to stroke, the fingers of his other hand smoothing down, over Chris’s balls stilled pulled up tight, down over his fucked-raw hole and then two fingers slide slickly inside and begin to fuck him.

Something, god knows what, makes Chris ask, “Do we need to talk about it?”

Will’s only response is to flush another shade of pink and then hold Chris’s dick up so he can slides his mouth around the head and suck with his eyes closed.

That’s a ‘no’ then. Chris settles into canting his hips up to fuck shallowly into Will’s grip and mouth, letting Will finger him, curling his fingers just right and really, Chris should be able to come easily but his mind – his goddamn fucking mind – is racing off with seemingly more important things.

Will adds a third finger, takes Chris deeper, doing his best to suck down the length of him and Chris  _does_  whine and keen and buck, fingers wrapping in Will’s hair to hold him there a second and then relax. But he doesn’t come.

Then Will pulls off his dick and licks a strip, wet and hot, all the way up Chris’s crack, over his hole, then his balls and to the tip of his cock.

Chris gasps and his hands pull Will back by the hair and he fixes him with a stare. “We need to talk,” his voice is high and thready; he wants so badly to come but he can’t stop thinking.

And Will’s only done this once, Chris has only let him do it once – rim him straight after sex. Because Chris knows how his ass must look: fucked raw and stretched and messy and that one time it’s happened before he was just the right side of tipsy and Will was a little bit worse. Will begged to be allowed to rim him right after Chris came with Will buried in his ass and Chris had said yes. God knows how many times Will would do it given free reign because that one time Will fell apart with it and now Will’s eyes are begging wide, his mouth open, always busy as his tongue licks pink and it feels so fucking good and Chris will let him do it again.

There’s still that other thing, that thing they really need to talk about.

Chris pushes Will’s face back down, letting him nuzzle behind his balls and lick wet through the sweat there. He feels him suck the skin into his mouth and then lick easily into his ass, tongue wriggling and feeling like a live-wire that goes straight to his cock and  _oh yes this feels amazing._

Chris opens his legs all the way, tilting his ass up so Will can get at it more easily, alternating between fucking into him with his tongue and two fingers, licking light around the rim, and sucking at Chris’s balls. Chris lets go of Will’s hair and raises up on his elbows to watch. Really, he doesn’t care how he looks, how fucked out his whole body is by this point, he really just wants to float on this feeling of almost coming forever and keep Will’s mouth right there. He rides down as Will bites the side of a cheek and then circles Chris’s hole.

“Did you mean it?” It slips out, unbidden, and Chris immediately bites down on his bottom lip.

Will mumbles something against the spit-wet skin of him and it’s almost, almost enough.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Will says and then slides his tongue deep as though he’s proving he’s not up for discussion.

Chris arches his back again as Will twists his hand just under the head of his cock and he almost gets there, almost lets go and doesn’t care but…  “Why are you trying to take it back?” Chris asks in a small voice. Because fuck he didn’t want to hear it, especially not here, not like this, but now he can’t help but hang on to it and wonder how much it’ll hurt if it’s taken back, if that’s what Will is doing. “Will?”

Will just keeps working him over, expert fingers and an expert tongue, seemingly covering him everywhere and it’s overwhelming like sex between them sometimes is, too much all at once. But then Will does pull back, just for a second, fingers still inside and around him, still working him, mouth open and breathing deep. His eyes open wide and clear and he stares right at Chris, watching him for a few shorts seconds, making sure he’s okay and Chris can’t imagine Will could take it back.

Chris is the first one to close his eyes and relax back into the touch because what Will is giving him is breathtaking but not nearly enough and all because Chris can’t concentrate. He babbles. “You know I’ve never said it…  _that_  to anyone before.” And god he feels so stupid, so  _young_ , but there’s a finger in his ass, a fist around his cock, and a mouth around one of his balls, so maybe he shouldn’t be blaming his innocence for his relationship fumbling anymore. “You know - oh  _god_ , there, right ah,  _oh_ there - you know I’ve never told a guy that,” and Will knows he’s never been told it either. Will bites a mark into Chris’s inner thigh that no one will ever see but still seems to ignore what he’s saying.

Chris raises up further on his elbows to watch Will work him over, feeling every suck and lick and stroke. He feels vulnerable, unfairly vulnerable considering he wasn’t the one that said it. “You know no one has ever said it to me,” Chris breathes and then moans and twists as Will’s fingers push inside him.

“ _Will_ ,” Chris calls.

And finally Will does look up, presses a soft kiss to the flesh of Chris’s ass and mutters, “Fuck, I can’t believe I came.” Then he kisses again, chaste turned dirty in a second as he licks up Chris’s crack and sucks over his hole, tongue fucking in while Chris works his hips and his body to keep himself held taut on the edge. “Just shut up,” Will growls.

Chris can’t though and he reaches down with one hand, balancing on the other elbow as he tugs at Will’s hair hard enough to make him look up and properly meet his gaze and stop using his mouth and hands to try to get him to come. Like that will just fix everything.

Will stares at him, licks his already slick lips. He looks almost shy, bashful. “I’m sorry, can we just forget I said it at all?”

“But you did,” Chris counters, and his fingers slip free from Will’s hair.  Will slides back down between his legs, licking up the side of his cock and then sucking the length of him down his throat. Chris stays up on his elbows and watches, twitching with being too turned on for too long and wanting to come but also really, really needing to talk and it’s not even nearly the first time he’s let his mouth run away with him. “You said you loved me, Will. Like it’s not a big deal? I mean, maybe it wouldn’t be but now you’re trying really hard to pretend it didn’t happen and it’s making me wonder if that’s because you didn’t mean it, which is kind of worse than you meaning it, and I really can’t believe you said it while you were  _fucking me._ What the fuck am I - oh  _god.”_ He moans and his feet plant either side of Will so he can ride down onto his fingers, circling his hips as Will’s mouth drops automatically and sucks rough around the rim. “I still don’t really understand why you said it,” Chris says through a gasp.  

Will pulls his mouth away with a loud slurp, a quick kiss to the head of Chris’s cock and Chris keens in response. He’s pink-cheeked and his hair is a mess and his mouth is too-red with all the work. “Could you please just come?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation,” Chris says back, his hips still rocking into every touch and lick, but his resolve held tight, his hands grabbing at the sheets to hold off.  

“And I’m purposely  _not_ ,” Will snaps and then sucks on Chris’s balls, one then the other, rough and wet sending hot liquid pleasure all the way out to his toes.

Chris gasps and watches as Will shifts his mouth up to the head of his cock to lick up the precome that’s dribbling down away. “I don’t understand why you said it if you were going to turn around and want to take it back.”

Will’s teeth dig in against the skin behind Chris’s balls and Chris feels him sigh, hot and hard against him. When he draws back his wet red lips are set in a scowl and he snaps, fingers fucking Chris deep, “Sometimes it’s really hard not to say something when it’s all you’ve been able to think about for weeks.”

Chris moans and he sees Will’s lips twitch, sees his shoulder tense and then relax, feels the twist of Will’s fingers inside him and the hot kiss of his lips to the head of his cock. _Fuckfuckfuck._ “So you do mean it?” he manages to gasp out and oh that makes him feel…

Will hums, still kissing his cock, and it feels like a ‘yes’ and then he says so, “Yes,” against the length of him. “Of course.”

Chris drags him up the bed, bends himself up to meet him half way so he can kiss his way across a cheek and into his mouth, slow and deep, Will’s hands still caught between them on his cock and inside him. “Don’t take it back,” Chris mumbles into his mouth, soft and high and not realizing how badly he means it until it’s out.

Will kisses him but doesn’t speak, still caught unsure and Chris can guess why.

“You really weren’t meant to - oh, shit right  _there_  - say it mid-fuck,” Chris says as he shifts closer, almost onto his knees to ride down on Will’s fingers and keep trusting messily against his lips with his tongue between words. “I can’t -” and he moans and arches and knows Will’s watching him, he knows Will’s watching his body twist in a way no one has ever watched him, he feels it prickle through him. “It doesn’t have to be about me saying it back, okay?”

Will whines and sucks on his earlobe. Chris expects him to drop a petname but he stays silent, just stroking inside him with two fingers now.

“Okay?” Chris tries again, watching Will’s face as he grinds his body down, closer to Will’s, drawing out every last possible moment of waiting before he falls apart. He swallows thickly and kisses Will again, a hand sliding down to where Will’s cock is getting hard again and he wonders just how long they’ve been here, in bed, fucking each other stupid. “I like it.”

Will huffs out a laugh and curls his fingers again, makes Chris gasp. “You like that I love you?” he says without really thinking and then watches, amazed, as Chris’s head falls back, mouth open and keening and twists down hard onto Will’s fingers.  

Chris keeps riding, keeps going, licks his lips and then into Will’s mouth. “I love that you love me,” he says against his mouth in the same moment that he realizes it’s  _true_. Because as much as he hates the word being there, the label of being in love as well as the onus to say it back, Chris  _loves_  the hot rush of being loved _._ Even if Will said it and came in his ass in a most un-fairytale like way, it still feels so damned  _good._   

Will draws him all the way forward, upright and kneeling across his lap. “Why does it always have to be said back?” Will wonders and Chris can hear the ache in his voice but it’s small, overridden by Will’s wonder, the quirk of his lips up into a smile and then another kiss. “You gonna come for me?” he says as the hand around Chris’s cock speeds up. “Because you’re showing incredible resolve not to.”

“I don’t want you to take it back,” Chris whines. “I - I like it,” he admits, letting the warmth of it course through him. “Fuck, Will,  _please_.”

“Love you,” Will dares to try.

Chris has to bite down on Will’s neck to stop from coming, can’t stop himself from rolling his body harder into Will’s touch and moaning into the skin between his teeth as Will gasps. Chris swallows and reveals, quiet and deep and this is exactly what sex between them is like, exactly what sex has never ever been for Chris, what he didn’t believe existed, “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone love me. Not like that.”

“Like this,” Will corrects, his own hips rocking under Chris now, his fingers still working him.

Chris hums to agree, rides a little bit more and inch by inch lets his body go. Fucked out and too sweaty, his skin held tight and hot relaxing as he rides Will’s fingers a little wilder and pushes up into his hand rougher. He kisses Will until his hums turn to moans.

“Gonna come for me now,” Will tells him, barely breaking the kiss. “God, I love you.”

One last twist of Will’s fingers, reaching deep inside him and pressing, and Chris comes breathless. Head falling back even as Will kisses at his throat, an almost silent cry of “ _oh god, Will,”_ slipping free as he finally lets his muscles contract and pull Will all the way in and comes. It splashes hot between them and seems to last too long, wringing small whimpers and sobs and every ounce of energy and feeling from Chris as come paints across their stomachs and Will’s hand. Will keeps working his mouth against Chris’s neck even as Chris starts to whimper from too much, dropping his face to kiss Will once, deep, biting down on his bottom lip and then dragging him down onto the sheets.

They lay panting, staring at each other across the rumpled grey cotton. “You okay?” Will eventually asks, their fingers tangled somewhere between them.

Chris hums and snuggles further into the mattress. “‘m good,” he mumbles. 

“Yeah?” Will asks, shifting closer, half-hard cock pressing against Chris’s thigh. “Because that was a bit intense, is all.”

Chris smiles more and moves in to bite playfully at the flesh of Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything coherent, he just mumbles something happy again.

“I love you,” Will tries it on again, grinning to say it, grinning more when Chris buries his face close into his chest and giggles.

“You’ve said that a few times now,” Chris tells him.

“Getting sick of it?”

Chris hums again, this time clearly in the negative as he slides up to kiss Will on the mouth, throwing a leg over him before he draws back to raise an eyebrow.

“Love you,” Will mumbles through the broadest grin Chris has ever seen.

Chris feels his cheeks start to ache because he’s smiling just as hard and they’re sticky and sex-sweaty, his whole body sore and cramped from being held tight for too long. He wonders if a bath and a massage are out of the question and then he remembers Will  _loves_ him. He kisses Will, long and languid, sliding his tongue in and making it messy, stretching a hand down to stroke slow over Will’s recovering cock.

God he wants, suddenly, inevitably, to say it. He feels it bubble up in him as though it’s always been there and he knew it was, ignored it when he could convince himself it was just a crush on someone unattainable, and that was ages ago. And again when this started and he tripped-stumbled-fell head over heels but he just got over explaining he doesn’t have to say it back, that he doesn’t want it to be sex-hot and desperate if it doesn’t need to be even though he’s looking at Will’s bright brown eyes now and can’t imagine a better story.

He bites his tongue and doesn’t say it, swallows it down not for want of hiding - after all, Will has already taken the leap for the both of them - but because he can hold onto this for a little bit, can savour it like a slow burn and then bowl Will over with it.

Chris wonders, for the very first time, if Will knows how he feels. He stares at him across the bed, at the small crease between his eyes as he’s watching back. “Thank you,” Chris says instead of everything else.

“For what?” Will asks with a hand splayed across his cheek, soft touches of his fingertips.

Chris laughs and his eyes dip and it feels romantic and silly enough to cross into something surreal. He never really entertained ideas of having this. He pokes Will in the center of the chest to break the moment, to keep it from becoming too heavy with anything. “You know what.”

Will grins: he knows. “We’re okay, then?”

“Very,” Chris says without hesitation. “And since you love me so very much—”

“I never said  _very_ much.”

“Maybe you could go and run me a bath?” Chris does his best to widen his eyes, to look like he needs it because his muscles feel like they really do. “Then maybe you could give me one of those massages you’re so very good at? Maybe even put pants on and run downstairs and get me a drink?”

Will huffs and rolls his eyes, “Pants?” he laments with a whine, his body moving on the bed as he bends and stretches himself out. “Well I guess…” Will pauses, sighing again as Chris watches him and tries very hard to put on puppy-dog eyes. “Oh well fine,” Will relents, another smile tugging at his lips. “But only because I love you.”    

Chris beams, sex-messed hair and still sweaty skin and a smile stretching across his face. “Good,” he says on a moan, rolling away to lay flat on his belly and close his eyes.

“Good,” Will replies, and the mattress dips as he shifts to the edge and then off.

Chris listens to Wil’s bare feet on the carpet, to the whine of the pipes as the water starts to run in the bathroom and then the creak of the stairs as Will takes them two at a time down to the kitchen - he so hasn’t put pants on. And then he lets his mind drift and his lips quirk because he can’t stop himself from imagining the look on Will’s face when he’s ready to say it back. And he has so, so many ideas of exactly when that will be.


	2. Toast and the Opportune Moment

Chris doesn’t say it back for over a week, but he doesn’t last longer than two. There are so many chances and after only a few days he wants to take them. Will says it too much, too often, too easily, or at least it would be if it didn’t feel so fantastic, if didn’t heat the air between them and make Chris’s fingers itch and his breath catch, each and every time. It’s weird and remarkable and wonderful, the resilience of the idea of love.

He loves Will back, he dissects the word over and over, gets distracted on Wikipedia and in online history books, chasing down ideas and definitions and origins of the ridiculous idea that two people can fit so well together. He realizes he’s probably been in love for even longer than Will.

And then Will says it to him innocuously, about to run out the door for work one Tuesday morning, just one more time in a week where it’s a litany of  _‘I love you’_ , and Chris isn’t sure there’s ever been a time Will didn’t love him.

~*~*~

On a morning a few days later, Chris is slumped forward at the table, focused on his phone as he scrolls through new emails when Will slides a plate of toast onto the table in front of him. Will bends to kiss Chris’s temple, just a soft whisper of lips and breath and then, “I love you,” and a smile as he moves to his chair on the other side of the table corner. 

Chris clicks off his phone instantly, email forgotten as he places it down besides his plate and watches Will with slightly-narrowed eyes. Will isn’t even looking, it could be the hundredth time he’s said it, and even as he’s cutting his toast into squares, he smiles quietly to himself, like he has a secret.

Chris would swallow it down, would wait a little longer and plan a little more but he  _wants_  to say it and that’s all that really matters. He’s wanted to say it for so long now and he’s really only been waiting for a moment where he could enjoy it; over a breakfast of toast when Will has run out of shower gel again so he smells like him.

Still he waits an extra beat, drawing out the long half minute between when Will has said it and when he can say it back and it can be lazy, simple, magnificent. He watches the angle of Will’s jaw and the spikes of his hair where it’s still a bit wet, he sucks his bottom lip and is grinning so hard that if Will does look up he’ll know.

Chris schools his expression and shifts slightly on his seat, ready to watch and enjoy whatever reaction he gets. When he breathes in it rattles a little but he has no time to think because Will’s lifting toast to his mouth and Chris cannot wait another moment.

“Love you, too.” Meant to be nonchalant and easy, it’s meant to almost be teasing and funny because Chris predicts – and gets – a caricatured reaction of astounded shocked joy. Except first he has to remember how to start breathing again, how to get the heat in his cheeks down and the pound of his heart under control because he’s never told anyone he _loves_  them, not like this, not meaning it like this. He’s never even felt a hint of what he’s feeling now and Will is staring with breakfast halfway to his mouth, a mouth that’s gaping and eyes that are wide.

It’s exactly the reaction Chris wants but he didn’t expect his own.  _Oh_ …  _wow,_  so this is what mutual ‘I love yous’ feels like, this is what being this far in love and talking about it  _feels like_.

Chris’s gaze drops and he can hear himself take a deep breath; he curls his toes against the tiles and kind of wants to just shiver with it. More importantly, he wants to drag Will along with him and when his eyes move back up to the still suspended toast he finds Will still staring.

Chris stares back and then a giggle bubbles out of him and Will’s eyes go wider. “You okay, Will?” Chris asks.

Will’s head tilts ever so slightly, he closes his mouth, places the toast back down and licks his lips. He manages to say, quite seriously, “Christopher,” and that’s all.

Chris arches an eyebrow and Will says again, “ _Christopher!_ ”

His heart skips a beat, hearing his name spoken on a growl that’s playful, awed and reverent at once. He hates being calling ‘Christopher’ but this is a certain exception. “Yes?”

Will swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with it. “You said it.”

“I did." 

“Say it again.” Will isn’t asking, he’s not even quite begging but there’s a plea in his eyes even while he makes demands.

Chris is ready to feel his blood rush this time, to feel his skin prickle with something hot. That doesn’t make it feel less though as he says it a second time, “I love you.” 

The toast is forgotten as is the coffee that’s brewing. The third time he says it, Will starts to say it back before he’s even finished and then Chris makes a mess of scrambling out of his chair and around the sharp corner of the table to wrench Will’s chair around to face him.

He stands between his legs, takes Will’s face in his hands and bends down to kiss him. They stay like that for long enough to lose any sense of time. They kiss slow and soft, mouths lavishing thanks on each other, teases and  _wants_  that reverberate through the mid-morning air of the house. Will’s hands start to move over Chris’s body, beginning at the small of his back while their kisses are at their most chaste, then circling out, further and further, up to his shoulders and down to his ass, pulling him in and tugging at muscles and skin beneath Chris’s thin cotton shirt.

Chris’s hands keep holding Will’s face, cradling each cheek and moving so slightly against his hair line, across his jaw, feeling out the kiss as it deepens but still stays soft, not quite there enough, not nearly dirty enough, for what they both want next. The kisses don’t need to be because when Will pulls away and fits his own hands to Chris’s face, watching his eyes flutter bright-blue open, Will says, “Love you,” so blissfully, so easily, and Chris says, “Love you back,” like a challenge.

It’s sexy, being in love.

Will groans and tugs Chris’s mouth back down to his and  _then_  it turns dirty quickly, as though they both come to a mutual decision to change gears and are racing to the next step. Will’s tongue presses into Chris’s mouth, his hands straight down Chris’s chest, fumbling with the top button of his jeans as he goes and getting it undone before he has to grab at Chris’s ass and pull him in again. He licks and sucks and bites until Chris pulls his mouth back to moan, his fingers threaded into Will’s hair and tugging his head even further back.

Chris leans forward to suck at the hinge of his jaw. “We’re ridiculous,” he points out.

“Love you,” comes Will’s reply.

“It shouldn’t – fuck –“ Chris stops to whine as Will bites down on an earlobe and starts to arch up off the chair to find more contact. “We’re adults, it shouldn’t be this big, huge thing.” There’s just a little bit of fear lacing his words, a fear that, by now, Will has mostly chased away.

Will takes a shuddering breath and splays his hands across Chris’s cheeks once more, making him look at him, eye to eye, both with flushed skin and red lips and bright, excited eyes. “I love you,” he says, earnest and turned on and trying to prove a point. Chris’s breath catches and his lips quirk up. “And if you feel even half of what you saying it makes me feel, then we should just keep saying it and enjoying it for as long as we possibly can, okay?”

Chris nods because, of course. He turns his head and kisses the curve of Will’s thumb. As he’s sucking it into his mouth, Will says, “This is gonna be so fucking great."

~*~*~

Will gets impatient, his breath dropping to a rough groan when Chris tips his head back, his smiling mouth moving out of reach just as Will’s tongue was setting up the most delicious of fucking motions between his lips. His hands slide up the backs of Chris’s thighs, fingertips pressing the seam of the denim into the crease of his ass, before Will is pushing him back, lifting him onto the edge of table and reveling in the high pitched squeal that escapes Chris’s lips.

Eyes wide as he gasps, Chris grabs at Will’s shoulders for balance as his ass slides back across the wood and his legs make space for Will between. A butter knife and a script fall to the ground and neither of them notices because they’re kissing again.

“What do you want?” Will asks, mouth hot, breath hotter, his hand working against Chris’s jeans, tugging at the zipper and feeling Chris’s cock hard under the stiffness of the denim.

Chris laughs, head tilting back and his ankles hooking behind Will’s knees. “Anything,” he mumbles as Will works over his neck, careful not to linger too long, not to mark as almost undetectable “love yous” are uttered here and there.

“Everything,” Chris amends and his mind floods with ideas, his body tense with wanting.

Will gets Chris’s jeans undone and slides a hand inside. It’s too tight and he can barely work but his hand cups around the length of Chris’s dick and presses. “Fuck,” Will mutters when he finds him hotter, harder than expected under his palm. Will watches, stunning, as Chris’s whole body rolls up into his squeezing hand and then he looks back down to see the shape of him.  The head of Chris’s cock is just beneath the waistband of his grey briefs, the hint of a wet spot already there.

“What do we have time for?” Will asks.

“We have all morning,” is out of Chris’s mouth before he can stop it.

“You’re meant to be writing.”

Chris catches Will’s eye as they pause and he thinks for a second, stops and wonders what he’s doing with his life, prioritizing getting a few more pages of book out when Will has the day off and is looking at him like he’s starving for more. More touch, more talk, more love. Will has asked him to slow down before, teased him for being scheduled around the clock, revered him just a little for achieving more before he’s 25 than most people achieve in their entire lives. 

 _Slow down._ If he can slow down for anything he can slow down for this. He can wrap himself up in Will and get lost for a while and ignore the rest of the world.

Will’s hand in his pants, fingertips light up the side of his cock, brings him back, “Chris?” he asks.

“It can wait,” and Chris grins up at him and wriggles to get his pants a few inches lower around his ass, to get Will’s hand closer and start kissing him again. “It can wait for this.”

It turns even more languid now that Chris can see hours stretching out in front of them, he has plans, suddenly, and Will can sense it even if he doesn’t quite understand. Not that it matters, not when Chris’s mouth is on his, shifting and sucking, gentle, hot kisses that end with nips and smiles. When Chris pulls back an inch and murmurs, “I love you,” it’s just because he wants to, nuzzling into Will’s cheek to feel him smile back automatically, to hear his breath catch a little before he moans, unabashed and strokes Chris through his underwear.

More kisses, kisses that never really end because they just slip into the next press of mouths, the next set of caught small noises between them. Chris is rocking off the table when Will shuffles even further forward and starts to whisper against his neck. “Wanna make you come. God Chris, wanna get you off so bad.”

Will’s hard, caught breath on the side of his neck while Chris runs his hands across the planes of Will’s back, touching lightly, scratching through the material in long sweeps. Will is turned on, licking the sweat from Chris’s neck and still talking, tugging Chris closer with what he says and the steady stroke of his hand. “Love your face when you come, love the noises you make. Love  _you_.” He nips and sucks and his thumb rubs the crown of Chris’s dick where it’s still pressing against the waistband. “Fuck,  _Chris,_ Want to feel it. Come on Chris.”

And suddenly Chris is right there, on the edge, cock throbbing under Will’s hand, still trapped in his underwear, still just being palmed like he’s an inexperienced teenager just working things out. And he wanted more, moans out, “Wanted to taste you, wanna come with you,” even as Will’s hand presses up against him more, brings him closer.

Will shushes him gently, blowing a breath down his neck and then dragging his teeth after it. He echoes back, “We’ve got all morning. Tell me we’ve got all morning and I’ll make you come in your pants.”

Chris whines, high in his throat and his head falls back, Will’s mouth still working against his neck, eyes slipping down to his hand over the outline of Chris’s cock, to the tremble in Chris’s belly and then his eyes snap up as Chris’s breath hitches.

“If I’m gonna take the morning off,” Chris pants against Will’s temple, rolling his hips hard into Will’s touch. “ _Fuck_ , Will, I want you to wreck me and put me back together again,  _jesus, oh my_  – fuck harder, Will,  _please_.” And then he gasps, promises, “All morning.”

Will laughs, raspy and his fingers digging into Chris’s hip to hold him still. “Then you should come.” His free hand moves up to turn Chris’s mouth into his, kiss him as he says, “And then I can start cleaning you up. Put you back together so I can wreck you all over again.”

And that’s enough, the thought that there will be more. Will’s hand stays flush against him, just pushing and pulling cotton over skin over hard hotness, working him through it while Chris gasps and clings to him, ass on the edge of the table, rocking recklessly as his cock pulses in hard, body-shuddering time with his breath, come spilling against his skin and his underwear, leaching out to Will’s fingertips.

His heart is racing and Will catches him when he falls forward into his arms.

~*~*~

“Love you, love you so fucking much, I didn’t even think – And then you say it back while I’m eating toast because you’re a fucking  _asshole_  and now you’re gonna let me spend the whole morning making sure you feel it. Feel it in every single inch of you, Chris.”

Will pulls Chris’s hand to his mouth and bites a kiss into fleshiest part of his palm.

“You’re being romantic,” Chris mumbles, still fuzzy from coming his brains out, not entirely sure what they do now but pretty sure he’s not about to move.

Will hums and licks up his thumb, pushes him back onto the edge of the table and disentangles far enough to pull Chris’s shirt over his head.

“I love you, too,” Chris whispers and watches for the moment Will registers it, the flutter of his eyelashes as he closes his eyes and kisses tender at the pad of Chris’s thumb. Then he looks up and smiles.

Chris is biting his lip like he wants to ask something so Will arches an eyebrow and prompts, “What?”

A deep breath through his nose, his back straightening defensively, Chris asks, “You’ve said it to other people before, right?” It’s mostly rhetorical, because they had this conversation drunk over mojitos two summers ago when all they were was friends with too much in common. Will nods and Chris breathes out, “Does it usually feel like this?”

The grin in instantaneous, no time to hide anything and Chris grins back; Will says it like it’s a secret, “Not ever,” and then he steps close, interlaces their fingers, and kisses him hard.

~*~*~

Will gets the rest of Chris’s clothes off of him fast. Kisses his still lax mouth and any other skin he encounters until Chris is sitting naked on the kitchen table, hair flopped forward over his forehead, leaning back on his hands with his legs spread a little.

His thighs, pale and dusted all the way up with increasingly finer hair, are hot under Will’s hands, strong and then soft on the inside where Will is working his mouth to make the kind of mark he’s not allowed to make anywhere else. He’s bent over and still fully clothed and he can’t imagine anything better and he hasn’t even started cleaning him up, just one quick swipe of Chris’s boxer-briefs over the smattering of come left once they were off. Will sucks at the fleshy inside of Chris’s thigh making Chris moan, his hands flying up to tug on his hair before Will inches back to survey the blossom of a red bruise where his mouth was.

Chris tugs again and Will sets to work kissing up and around the base of his cock, nuzzles at  the waxed-smooth skin and licks at the smear of come, humming his happiness into one of the veins that dives down. He avoids everywhere Chris is wanting him more and more, broader arcs from thigh to thigh across his belly, licking and sucking, his thumbs rubbing circles into Chris’s legs and his breath teasing over the sensitive flesh of Chris’s dick.

He waits for Chris to call for him, whining out his name more petulantly than he’d ever let anyone else hear him, drawing his name out into two syllables, “ _Wi-ill._ ”

Then he sets to work biting another mark into his hip, low enough it’ll never slip above the waistband of his pants, sucked and bitten dark enough that it’ll last for days.

“Will, need you,” comes minutes later and Will straightens, back sore, and drags Chris off the side of the table, onto his feet, then drops to his knees with a crack. 

He stares up into Chris’s startled eyes as he presses his mouth in close to the underside of his cock, kissing at the skin that stretches to his balls, sucking it into his mouth and licking over it. Chris moans and Will grins, pulling one of Chris’s legs over his shoulder, forcing him to catch his balance on the edge of the table and stop pulling at his hair.

Will alternates where he puts his mouth in a delicious tease. Takes his time getting Chris’s dick slick, the last remnants of come lapped away in broad, wet strokes. He takes him down his throat just once, holds there and listens to Chris’s breath quicken as he feels the heartbeat in his cock do the same. He pulls off and drops his mouth to Chris’s balls, sucking one then the other, rolling them in his mouth, and not letting himself lose sight of Chris’s eyes looking down at him.

When he ducks down further, the flat of his tongue pressing over Chris’s hole in broad strokes, he has to close his eyes and just feel.

Chris starts to shudder, ass pulled wide by Will’s hands, hole licked wet and open. Will shifts back to his dick, holds it in one hand and licks light around the head, staring up at him once more.

Groaning his frustration, sweat now sheening his back and dripping down his temples, Chris presses his foot against Will’s back, tilts his hips just so and pushes deeper into Will’s mouth.

Will opens beautifully for him. Chris can only watch as Will meets the tilt and push of his hips with his lips stretching wide and his face angling up. He lets Chris push all the way into his throat, lets Chris stop there, pulsing hot and hard and trying to swallow his own sounds as Will looks up at him. Chris fucks into his mouth again and again, hard and fast until he’s panting and then he pulls out, chest heaving, lips open in a mirror of Will’s and just stares as Will ducks to mouth over the skin behind his balls, kiss at his ass and then slide wet-mouthed into the crease of his thigh.

“I love you right here,” he mumbles and Chris has to dig his heel into his back and hum a questioning sound to get him to say it again. Will chuckles and says move loudly, the vibration of it racing across Chris’s skin, right to his cock. “I love you  _here_.” Will noses the line and then licks, hot air running cold over the wetness. “And right here,” he adds, kissing the head of Chris’s cock, chaste and then dirty, sucking him in. “Especially here,” and he tongues at the skin between Chris’s balls, sucking it into his mouth and listening to him groan.

“That’s obscene,” Chris breathes because it is, though he sounds too turned on to be taken seriously.

Will mumbles something that might be “Don’t care,” but Chris isn’t sure. Then he says louder, rising higher on his knees, his face pressed to Chris’s sweaty stomach as he stares up through heavy-lidded eyes. “You don’t feel how much I love you like this?”

He presses a kiss beside Chris’s belly button, staining the whitest of skin pink with a soft touch and then resumes staring up, just the friction of where his chest is pressing against Chris’s balls and cock keeping him on edge – right on edge.

“Oh god,” Chris whines because he can feel it, he  _so_  can. He never reconciled love and sex the way he knows some people do. He never learned how and yet here he is, about to come hard and hot and dirty-wicked-wonderful and all he can think is  _loveyouloveyouloveyou._ “Will, god, you should –“ he stutters out as Will’s tongue swirls lower, mouth curving around the base of Chris’s cock and sliding up.

Will raises an eyebrow when he looks up again, tonguing lazily on the head of his cock.

“Make me,” Chris asks, almost begs. “Make me feel it.”

He feels the swallow where his cock is still between Will’s lips, sees the tremor in Will’s eyelashes and then watches, stunned at his own brazenness, at how easily it’s all coming to him, as Will reaches between his own legs and pushes roughly against his own cock where it’s still trapped in his sweatpants.

Will deep-throats him again and then slides off, the sound of it dirty and wet before Chris’s ass falls back to the edge of the table. “You gonna come again for me?”

“Want you to come, too,” Chris says, frowning slightly at the idea of Will getting himself off in his own pants but too lust-addled to see an alternative. Chris wants his hands and mouth all over him but right now he also wants release and the chance to collapse with Will, to drag him down into something lush, delicious, indulgent.

“Are you close?” Will asks, as though he can’t feel the desperation under his hands. can’t hear the whine in Chris’s voice when he doesn’t bother to respond. “Gonna come for me?” Will asks, nuzzling against at the base of Chris’s cock, two fingers pressing back, over his hole and around with just enough pressure to make Chris’s breath hitch. Will sucks back over his balls and flicks his tongue in him once, pulling back fast when Chris all but keens, cutting himself off because he’s not used to being so fucking loud but Will is  _torturing him._

“Want you on me,” Will whispers, his hand now working roughly around Chris’s spit-slick dick as he stares up at Chris once more. “Want your come on me, want to be marked and owned and fucked as hard and dirty as you want.”

And Chris stares at how pretty Will looks on his knees, shirt twisted a little around the collar, sweatpants tight over his thighs, his cheeks pink and his mouth pinker, wet and swollen and his hair a mess. “Will,” he lets out slowly, forever in awe of Will’s ability to talk, to promise these impossibly decadent things, and then deliver.

God he wants to come though. Will’s thumb just brushing over his hole, his palm rubbing over the head of his cock making his eyes squeeze closed.

“Wanna know why?” Will asks, just a touch of singsong through the fucked-roughness of his voice.

It occurs to Chris and he says it sounding a little awestruck. “Because you love me.”

Waggling his eyebrows Will gives him a knowing tilt of his head and then stops stroking, stops teasing at his ass and just licks once over the head to keep the precome from dripping onto his shirt. “Exactly,” he says, settling further forward on his knees, close enough that Chris’s dick keeps brushing along his jaw. “Now fuck my mouth and come all over my face.”

The breath rushes out of Chris in one long shocked moan and everything twinges. He almost comes and then he’s rushing to get more, to get everything he was just offered before he’s finished. His leg slips off Will’s shoulder, pins and needles ebbing away as soon as they’re formed, feet planted staunchly between Will’s spread knees.

He takes Will’s hair in one hand, splays his other around Will’s jaw, feels it open wide as he watches Will’s lips part, wet and eager. He fucks in hard, one deep, ruined stroke that feels like heaven as it hits more and more heat and tightness, pushes into Will’s throat and cuts off the air and Chris can’t believe Will still looks smug, but he does, and that’s so fucking sexy.

Chris pulls out and Will moans, his hand in his own lap, palming his cock again as he sucks and hums and then Chris fucks back in. Two more strokes and he’s saying, “I can’t – fucking hell,  _your mouth,”_ and Chris dares one more, rough, deep press, all the way in as Will takes him beautifully and his balls are tight up against his body and his stomach tighter, his own mouth falling open as he moans and starts to come with the friction of pulling back out.

Will’s hands fly to his thighs, holding him there while Chris grabs his cock and pumps, watching entranced as he comes – not for the first time – across Will’s half-open mouth, across his cheek and his neck and it drips down to his shirt and dribbles from his lips before Will licks it up and opens his eyes.

Chris can still feel his cock throbbing, the last ebbs of it leaving his body with shivers that make him rise up on his toes. Will sucks him down to clean him off and Chris whines and only just manages to catch himself against the table, to keep himself upright.

When Will pulls off with a slurp, licking his lips and back to palming his cock through his sweats, Chris can only stare and blink slowly. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says, mostly to himself. “My god, _you –_ “ he has no idea. “Up here,” and then he drags Will up by the collar of his shirt.

~*~*~

Chris catches his breath through long, languorous kisses that turn messy quickly but never speed up. Will’s pressed up against him, hands grabbing his hips so he can grind against his thigh and whimper into his mouth as they sway a little. “You came twice,” Will says at some point, laughter and amazement and smugness in his voice and he kisses in again. “God, I love you. Love your perfect fucking… Love your tight teen body, coming twice, that fast, all for me. Fucking –“

Chris kisses him and laughs, “I’m twenty two you creep,” and then kisses him while they both laugh. “You didn’t come at all,” Chris mumbles while his hands move up across Will’s back and back into his hair, tugging his face back between licks into his mouth to just look at him and then kiss him close again. “You’re amazing.”

He licks the come from Will’s lips first because it’s easy to keep kissing and breathing that way and then he slowly starts to track his mouth across Will’s cheeks, little kisses punctuated by kitten licks and then Chris’s teeth nip at the line of his jaw and he licks the come right back into Will’s mouth. Will moans and bucks against him, fingers digging into his waist.

As Chris angles his head up to suck under his jaw and then down his neck, nuzzling and humming his contentment, Will groans, grinds down, and babbles aloud, “Shit, Chris, shit, you are just,  _shit._ So  _good to me._ Keep doing that -  _oh god,”_ and then, “ _Kiss me,”_ and he pulls him  back from his neck and sucks Chris’s tongue into his mouth, dragging his teeth and tasting Chris all over it.

“So fucking sexy,” Will murmurs and Chris kisses him again, still slow, still lush and full. “You’re just as dirty as me,” Will accuses as Chris licks into the corner of his mouth, tasting himself with a grin.

“I try but it’s difficult to keep up,” he replies.

Another kiss, even deeper, breathtaking, and when Chris tries to pull back, Will snakes a hand down to his cock and bites down on his bottom lip.

Chris bucks but says, “No, oh god,  _no,_ I couldn’t!” His cock twinges even as it starts to get hard. “I don’t care how much you love me, I am  _not_  that young anymore,” and Will chuckles. But Chris really can’t, he doesn’t care what Will thinks, this isn’t just about him, it’s about them and he’s come twice and he feels buzzed and spent at the same time. “Your turn,” he says, feeling hungry for that. He steps Will easily around so their positions are reversed and Will’s ass is against the edge of the table. “Shit you’re so hard,” he says, hand snaking down the front of Will’s pants, fingers curled around Will’s dick as he starts to grind forward, searching for more touch with a moan.

“You could come so easily,” Chris tells him, stepping in as close as he can so he can watch the fan of Will’s eyelashes across his cheeks. “I can’t believe…” he trails off.

“Want you so bad,” Will whines and his dick twitches as if to prove the point.

“How do you want it?” Chris whispers against his lips.

Will gulps and his eyes flutter back open. “Want you inside of me,” he says. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Soon,” Chris says, his other hand sliding down between Will’s ass and the table, gripping tight and bold. “God, yeah, I’ll fuck you.”

~*~*~

Brian is meowing before Chris even has Will’s pants all the way off. He’s pretty sure his sudden appearance in the kitchen archway is a result of the large amount of noise all of his current research books had made when Will had thrown an arm out and sent them hurtling over the edge. But now Brian’s awake and he wants food and really, Chris should just feed him but he puts it off and puts it off and then he’s got Will on his back, naked across his kitchen table, plates of cold toast perched precariously to the side, and there is no way Chris is walking away from this until he is done.

Brian winds a soft furry figure eight around Chris’s naked legs and then stops to rub his face there –  _so_  not the time. Chris growls down at him, hisses his name and gives him a quick shove away with his toes. Brian doesn’t come immediately back and in a moment Chris is lost again in the man splayed waiting in front of him.

Will looks amazing naked. He is one of those rare people, Chris likes to tell him, that looks better out of his clothes than in them. Usually Chris would joke that that has a lot to do with Will’s taste but today it has much more to do with the hard planes and angles of so much deliciously taut skin. He’s sweaty and flushed pink around his neck and Chris has never seen his cock so heavy with want.

It curves up and over his belly - still shaking a little with caught breaths - and has smeared a spot of precome into his abs already. His thighs lay spread and heavy - close to where Chris’s were not so long ago, his calves dangling off the side.

“You are so hot,” Chris says, except he says it reverently so it means a bit more. Will cranes his head up and runs his own hands from his hips up over his nipples and through his hair with a moan.

“Chris, please,” he calls, ass clenching so he can rock his dick up into nothing, watch Chris watch it bob and lick his lips in an unconscious response. “Come touch me.”

Chris sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and then steps into the space between Will’s legs, his fingertips dancing on the tops of Will’s knees and then his hands running up the muscles of his thighs to thumb at the bones of Will’s hips. He listens to the way Will moans and then leans down to kiss up the side of his cock, to feel him rock into even the lightest touch.

“Just wanna taste you,” Chris mumbles, “Just a bit,” and Will moans back. “A lot.”

“Shouldn’t have turned me on so much then,” Will responds, sounding amused. “You could look at me right and I think I’d come.” Chris chuckles and blushes and Will gets a hand on his cheek, makes him pause. “That’s a game for another day, okay?”

Chris breathes in slow, shocked at the idea, but it  _is_  an idea.

“Now, touch me and tell me when and I’ll come however you want.” Will gasps as Chris licks across his balls and then up the crease of his thigh.

Chris stays there a long minute, breathing and feeling the beat of Will’s heart in his veins. “You’re right, I love you here, too.”

“Love you everywhere.”

Chris chuckles, face sliding lower, pressing in close to where Will smells strongest, clean and sweaty and deliciously male. He bites playfully at the swell of his ass, nips again higher and licks with a broad stroke all the way up his crack to his balls before sucking them into his mouth. He stays there, content to listen to Will’s breathing punctuated by loud moans now and then, Will’s hips riding the air as Chris’s hands rest splayed flat across his abdomen.

When Chris opens his eyes and looks up Will’s body, he has to remember how to breathe, how to keep his tongue working Will’s balls and his thumbs tracing over his hips. All he can see is skin and sweat, Will’s cock flushed dark red and shining from his kisses, a string of spit or maybe precome curving from the head of his cock to his belly as Will keeps rocking under him, his cock standing out and oh so fucking pretty and Chris wants, just for a minute, to climb up over him and sink down hard.

Further up, Will’s fingers are around one nipple, twisting and then scratching across his ribs before moving back to pinch and rub again. His other hand is in his hair as he twists his head back and whines, sucking on his lips and giving Chris a magnificent view of the underside of his jaw, his stretched out throat.

Chris wants to be all over him, touching him everywhere, doing everything. He wants to replace Will’s hands with his own, he wants to fuck wrapped around him, he wants to fuck him hard from behind, right into the mattress so there’s nothing but friction and them. God he wants to make him scream, wants to swallow him down and make him beg for more.

Around his feet, breaking the moment, Brian meows loudly and purposely walks over his toes.

“Fuck,” Chris curses, mouth slipping off Will’s balls so he can look down and glare. Will starts to laugh and Chris ignores him, picking Brian up and moving quickly to dump him on the couch. “One minute,” he tells the cat, and then turns back to Will, now up on his elbows, cock bobbing even more as his belly shakes with more laughter, the persistent string of precome still hanging from his abs to the head of his cock. Will twists his fingers around his nipple and groans and Chris is back on him in a second, bending over and swallowing his cock down eagerly.

He sucks him down and sets up a fast bob of his head, swirling his tongue on every pull back, working his hand over the base as the sounds of sucking cock fill the kitchen. Will falls back to the table with a thump and a moan, Chris’s mouth too hot and slick around him after so long of just palming himself through his sweats and getting off on getting Chris off. Chris goes as far down as he can with a groan and sucks hard when he comes back up for air.

Another loud ‘meow’ punctuates Will’s increasingly desperate panting and Chris throws a sour look over his shoulder. “Brian’s starving,” he comments and twists his hand around Will’s dick, pumping him tight and fast, his other hand kneading into the flesh of Will’s thigh. Will cranes his head to look, to meet Chris’s eyes and watch. “So am I.” Chris tells him, he grins and it’s dirty; red-wet lips smiling as he drops back down, another ‘meow’ erupting from across the room.

He’s licking and sucking and bobbing his head like he was born to do it, Will’s hips rocking to meet him now, unable to keep himself still as his skin prickles and his moans get higher. “God I –  _ah_ – want you to fuck me so bad,” Will whines.

Chris won’t take his mouth off long enough to answer but he silently promises himself it’ll happen. Will needs to come down his throat, and collapse on the table so that next time, soon, they can both last.

“Love you,” Will says, voice low and growling when it isn’t moaning loud and long. “Love you, love you, fuck, Chris, keep going,  _fuck,_ don’t stop – love you.”

Still sucking, still working up and down the length of him with a jaw that is only just starting to ache and spit that’s dripping down Will’s balls, along his crack; when Chris slides a hand around the curve of his ass he realizes it’s dripped all the way down onto the table and he moans with it. “Love you, oh god, take it,” Will is still moaning as Chris presses his fingertips to Will’s balls and pinches at his hip with his other and sucks one last long drawing suck around the head and —

“ _Oh, fuck!”_ Will growls it out, long and loud and his whole back bowing against the wood of the table as his thighs tense and his hips fuck up from under Chris’s hand, sliding his cock deeper as his balls go tight and he comes down Chris’s throat.

Chris can feel the throb of it against his lips, the pulse of Will’s body as he slips back to let him spill more across his tongue, to suck gently and then not at all as Will moans again and again, head twisting from side to side. He lets out a sob, his hips spasming, stomach trembling as he falls back to the table.

Chris pulls off with a wet pop and swallows what’s across his tongue with a satisfied groan. There’s another ‘meow’ and then the clatter of a plate hitting the floor as Will flings an arm unthinkingly out to the side. Chris clicks his tongue because it’s all he can be bothered doing before he falls forward to rest his forehead against Will’s thigh with a sigh.

They stay like that for the small amount of time Brian gives them; jumping off the couch and resuming a steady rub against Chris’s calves. Chris tries to wish him away but he just starts meowing more and more loudly. His breakfast, Chris realizes when he looks to the clock, is about an hour overdue.

He’s pretty sure there’s an overturned plate on the floor – possible broken - as well as overturned toast. There’s spit still dripping down Will’s crack onto his kitchen table. There’s a cat around his feet. But Will’s blissed out, eyes closed, mouth open, smiling and Chris hasn’t kissed him in what feels like a long time.

So he does, pulls him across the table a little bit, leans all the way over and kisses the corner of his mouth then across his bottom lip, gentle until Will comes back to him enough to press his lips up and against Chris’s.

“Hey,” Chris breathes.

Will can only hum back, a limp arm wrapping across Chris’s back and holding him there.

“Love you,” Chris says and still can’t control his grin, can’t stop a small, wonderful corner of his brain from laughing at how lovesick-stupid he is. “Gotta feed Brian though.”

Will’s arm tugs him in closer for a moment, his hand spreading over the small of Chris’s back as Will leans up further with still-closed eyes and kisses him some more. Then he lets him go with a sigh and a moan and Chris steps back to watch Will stretch, naked and spent across the table.

Chris moves to rescue the plate and the toast from the floor, leaving Brian to lick up the crumbs and smeared butter. Will doesn’t move, but his eyes are open, his head turned so he can watch. His breathing begins to level out while gaze sweeps up and down Chris’s lean body and the bend of him as he works.

“Go and get the lube,” Chris calls as he stretches to the top-most cupboard to find Brian’s food. “I won’t be long,” he promises. That finally convinces Will to move, coaxing him back up to sitting on the edge, moving gingerly off and away from the sweaty-wet imprint of his ass.

He whines as he goes, feet dragging, shoulders slumped forward; he’s well-fucked and spent and tempted, Chris has no doubt, to fall face first back into bed. Chris hopes he won’t though, he hopes he’ll come back.

“You really need to get a cat trainer to teach Brian how to fetch important things like lube for times like these,” Will grumbles good-naturedly as he disappears through the archway. Chris snorts and pulls a face at Brian.

~*~*~

When Will surfaces from a soft sleep, he is naked on his back, sprawled across the couch and Chris is kneeling on the floor beside him. He blinks awake, knows instinctively that he’s only been under for a few minutes, remembers Chris leaning naked against the bench, petting down Brian’s back with one hand and typing out one line emails on his phone with the other. An apologetic look, “I need to tell people I’m  _not_  working,” as explanation and, still hungry, still happy, Will had slipped into sleep.

Brian has disappeared and so has the phone and now Chris’s hand is grabbing at his, fingers playing, caressing in between his own and then interlacing to hold tight. Chris kisses the side of his knee and rocks up onto his feet. He’s still gloriously naked, and most of the way to hard. Will stares.  

Chris pulls him up and Will’s stomach growls, the lube and condoms he’d collected spilling off the side of the couch and onto the floor. “Still hungry?” Chris asks with an arched eyebrow and Will’s belly growls loudly again.

“For you,” he says and pulls him in for a kiss, “And for food.”

Chris laughs at him and tugs on his hand to lead him back into the kitchen; Will is smart enough to scoop up the lube and condoms on his way.

They pull everything they can find out of the fridge, both hungry for something they can eat with their hands without putting too much space between them. Grapes and a tub of strawberry yogurt, sliced cheese and chunks of artisan bread with sliced tomato and ham. They spread everything out across the kitchen counter, lean in against it and eat while they watch each other.

They drink lots of water and for once find nothing they really want to talk about. Will just keeps saying, “I love you,” and Chris keeps shaking his head and grinning in response. Sometimes he says it back. Sometimes he says it first.

Will squishes another grape between his teeth and changes things up, saying between grapes, “I adore you,” “I’m enamored with you,” “I find you… captivating.”

Chris cracks up and Will kisses him, hand straight to his cock to coax him in close with soft, gentle pulls while he licks the yogurt from Chris’s lips. “I really love your cock,” he says.

Chris pulls back, fixes him in a calculating gaze and his voice drops to quiet and serious. Will keeps stroking him with an easy, languid hand. “Will,” Chris whispers, “I really love your everything.”

Will gasps just to hear Chris say it.

~*~*~

If Will opens his eyes he can see a scratchy reflection of himself in the stainless steel of the fridge. If he opens his eyes though, he gets dizzy with how badly he wants Chris to give him more, with how much it already feels, and so he keeps them closed, his arms crossed to cushion his face and quiet his moans.

Will can feel Chris on his knees behind him, a hand on each side of his ass, licking inside of him with soft, careful strokes of his tongue. He’s not trying to get him loose, he’s not fucking into him with his fingers at all, he’s just getting him wet and turned on, pressing his face up into him and sucking-kissing-lapping at the most sensitive skin he can find. He uses his knees to get Will’s legs further apart and presses his mouth further forward to suck on his balls making Will rock his cock into nothing and whine.

Chris licks him gently until the imprints of his hands against Will’s skin feel permanent and Will’s begging and twisting and riding back. “Please, oh fuck,  _please Chris,_ please, I need it, need something. Please don’t –  _god –_  don’t stop but… fuck me,  _fuck me_. God you’re so good, feels so good, want you in me, want any of you,  _please_.”

And then Chris runs his thumbs up the crease and pulls back to say, “Not yet baby, a little bit longer.”

Will’s toes curl against the floorboards on the next tender lick, he shuffles his feet apart further and arches his back harder and all Chris does is tickle his tongue around Will’s hole in one teasing circle.

Minutes later Will whines and rocks back again, desperate now, fingers pressed to the fridge to try to keep from leaning down to grab his dick and jerk himself off in a few easy strokes. Chris must sense it because he warns with a chuckle, “Easy, boy,” before leaning in to lick at him again.

His chin is as spit-slippery as Will’s ass when he pulls back and holds Will open to look. Will is still tight and pink and perfect, the ring of muscle contracting and relaxing under Chris’s gaze and there’s a bite mark on the soft swell of his ass to the side. “God, can’t wait to be inside you,” Chris breathes out and Will whines. Then Chris buries his face again and resumes with more little licks, simple teasing and sucking that’s slowly driving Will crazy because Chris is never this slow, this careful with him. He never has the time or the inclination of savor him like this and it’s making Will try to push down onto his tongue and sob with it.

“Chris,  _please_ ,” Will calls after minutes more of it. “God I need something.”

And he sounds so frustrated that Chris relents and lets two fingers brush over his hole, through the drip of spit and then back. “Gonna fuck you now,” he says and Will is so relieved he twists around, drops to his knees and kisses Chris hard, there on the floor.

~*~*~

Chris can’t quite work out how he wants him, too hung up on just  _wanting_. His cock is hard and heavy between his legs, over-sensitive already from coming twice and too much build. It’s wonderful. Will distract him with kisses until they’re upright and moving, bumping into the table and while Chris is still wondering if this is how he wants it, Will’s twisting around in his arms, leaning back to kiss him over his shoulder, then bending against the table so he can grind his ass against Chris’s cock.

“Fuck me,” he whimpers.

Chris nods, hands racing down Will’s sides, pressing into the tight, hot muscles of his abdomen and the angles of his hips, scratching back up over the roundness of his ass and kissing down the side of his neck. He slides a hand around the front of Will’s thigh and pulls, lifting it until he can push his knee firmly across the table, garnering a whine from Will as he’s spread open.

“Just like this,” Chris tells him, mouth hot against the nubs at the top of his spine as he crowds him in close against the table. “You okay?” he mumbles, teeth digging into his neck, eyes searching for the lube as he listens to Will’s stuttering breath.

He goes up on his toes and Will turns so Chris can kiss him across his shoulder. He squeezes Will’s ass and then disappears just long enough to cross to the counter and come back. He can’t stop himself from petting at Will’s skin as he slides on a condom and lubes himself up with quick, efficient strokes that still manage to make him groan. He dribbles just a little between Will’s cheeks and then steps close, reaches down and starts to press in.

Will’s tighter and hotter than ever, barely even licked loose. Chris has to take it slow, pressing and feeling every tremor in the muscles against him as Will concentrates on relaxing and continuing to breathe. He presses more, leans into it and Will whines something high and broken so that for a second Chris wonders if this just isn’t going to work, if Will needs a couple of fingers to help stretch him open, if there’s just too much heat and heaviness between them right now.

And then the head of his cock slips inside, another inch further and Will keeps whining while Chris curses under his breath against Will’s shoulder, “ _Jesus,_ fuck _._ ”

He holds there, waiting, chest heaving with deep, stuttering breaths against Will’s back, an arm wrapped around his waist to keep him steady, to hold him still. He can see Will’s hands splayed against the wood, out to his sides, fingernails scratching in. “God you feel so fucking tight,” Chris whispers, needing to release something, anything, even if he’s not ready to move yet. “Taking me so well, so perfect.” He kisses the back of his neck and mouths out, “I love you.”

Will’s the one that pushes back, arching his spine and taking another inch of Chris’s cock inside, whining again with the stretch and the fullness that already feels too much but he knows he can take him, knows he’s taken more before. The angle though, the way he’s already come and not really been stretched; it’s making his head swim deliciously, Chris’s mouth on him the only thing grounding him.

He pushes his ass back further, another inch, and then another, and then he rocks forward, slides his ass until he feels just the stretch of the head of Chris’s cock in him, and then back down. He twists to kiss Chris dirty, just their tongues licking across each other as Will pauses there, squeezing his ass to test the tightness and swallowing down Chris’s moan.

When Will goes to arch again, he realizes no matter how he stretches, he can’t pull Chris any deeper. “All the way,” he asks and feels Chris’s resolve shake through his belly. “Fill me up,” he says, tilting his head around to cast a look back, stretch as much as he can and share another desperate kiss that’s barely mouths and tongues and exchanged heavy breath.

Chris slides home, both of them lost in loud moans of momentary bliss as they fit together and Chris just has to twitch his hips to set off more frissons of pleasure racing beneath both of their skins. More kisses, slipping from mouths to skin more easily reached and Chris starts to rock, an inch out and then the easy slide back in, over and over until it’s half his cock sliding out and Will is grinding back, mouth just open and panting back against Chris’s.

It starts as a litany of “Fuck me, fuck me,  _fuck me_ ,” from Will, increasingly louder and begging, he bites at Chris’s lips, at his chin, and demands with his eyes and only has a moment to grin victoriously when Chris’s hands close tight over his hips because then Chris is drawing all the way out, mouth off of Will’s so he can stare down between them and watch as he snaps forward and buries himself.

He doesn’t dare stop once he’s started, fucking Will deep and rough, knees bending to get the angle just right and draw moans from Will’s throat every time he bottoms out, filling him up. At some point the staccato delivery of “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” turns to “Love you, love you, love you so fucking much,” and then it’s just a moan and, “Oh, shit, Chris, I’m close.”

Chris fucks into him twice more, bites down viciously against Will’s shoulder and forces himself to stop, breath dragged into his lungs past his teeth as he leans against Will’s back and tries to hold still, tries to pull himself back from the edge. Under him Will is breathing just as hard, whining as he reaches back to grab at Chris’s ass and try to fuck back against him.

“Love you, love you so much,” Will says, body still twitching in a search for the right kind of friction. “But I swear to god if you don’t keep going—“

“Love you, too,” Chris says, staring down at the angry purple splotch of skin his mouth just bit into existence.

“Please –“

Chris soothes him with a hand over his abdomen, petting lightly as he shushes him and says, “Not yet, okay, just wait, not yet, I can’t –“ he swallows and kisses the mark. “I want more of you,” he whispers as though it’s an admission; he sounds just as broken as Will feels. “Want all of you and don’t want this to be over just yet.”

“We have all day,” Will says back, his heart breaking just a little at the vulnerability in Chris’s voice, even as he finally finds the space, the table slipping forward across the tiles, to ride back slowly against his dick. “All day, Chris, we have all day – “ and he breaks off with a groan as he’s filled up all the way again. He has to bite his lip and focus to gasp out, quiet but there, “Chris, we have  _forever_.”

And,  _oh god,_ he’s said that in the heat of hard-messy-perfect sex but it’s so true it’s _resounding_ ; Chris’s blood spikes with the adrenaline of it. All he can say is, “I love you –  _oh –_ I love you and I didn’t –“ Chris stutters, hips shifting forward to meet Will’s rocking back.

“What?” Will asks, voice fraying.

Chris’s voice is high and breathless when he speaks, too complicated to dissect right then but amazed, beyond all else, “I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve said it.”

“Please,” Will begs, grinding back again, cock aching where it’s bobbing just above the table and dribbling precome steadily despite not yet being touched.

“Will –“

“You have me as long as you want me,” Will says and twists back to kiss him again. “Just keep loving me –  _oh fuck, there, right there_ – you’re the best thing that I –“

He cuts off as Chris fucks in properly again and it sparks hot and ruinous through both of them. Another half dozen perfect, deep thrusts and coming is inevitable as Chris’s muscles cramp and Will’s fingers scramble against the table for balance. The hand splayed across Will’s abdomen slides lower, Chris’s fingers blindly wrapping around Will’s cock as Chris’s mouth presses hot to the back of his neck.

He strokes him in time with the thrust of his hips, pulling the pleasure through him and listening to the hitches in his breath, to the moan that escapes his throat wraps around his name, “Chris, oh fuck,  _Chris,_ gonna –“

Chris fucks him harder when Will begins to come, groaning and pushing his ass back to get Chris deeper, to get him everywhere. His cock pulses in Chris’s hand and he can feel it spilling in long, white streaks across the wood, he can feel Will shaking with it, his whole body trembling pressed up closer and closer to Chris’s as his moans slip into small whimpers and his back straightens up.

The last of his come dribbles across Chris’s fingers before being smeared back across his belly as Chris holds him up and fucks into him twice more as hard as he can. He pushes deep, groaning and wrapping his other arm around Will’s body to draw him back tighter so when Chris comes gasping, he’s buried deep. His teeth latch onto the skin of Will’s shoulder, over the bruise, as he fucks his hips in small circles, staying close as he wrings every drop of pleasure from his body and pours it all into Will. Rocking into him even when it feels too much and then numb and the only sound in the room is their heavy breathing.

Chris punctuates it with one more, “I love you,” and Will laughs, breathless and blissful back at him.

~*~*~

Eventually, everything is too sticky and uncomfortable to stay the way they are. Chris unloops his arms from around Will’s body and slides his spent cock out of his ass. They both wince at the loss, Will collapsing forward onto his elbows to breathe and Chris caught, unable to look away from the bite marks across Will’s shoulders, his fucked red-raw, stretched open hole. He swallows and swears to himself that three times in a morning is enough for anyone and then chuckles.

Will looks back and realizes exactly what he’s thinking and groans as he shakes his head. He feels broken and sore in the most indulgent way as he pushes back off the table and sways on his feet. “I need a shower,” he says.

“Safe to say we both do,” Chris replies.

“Apart,” Will warns, an eyebrow arched. “You won’t be able to keep your greedy hands off me if we try to do it together.”

Chris grins and it’s wicked and Will really needs to find some underwear fast. “Down boy,” Will teases, pushing his hair back and pressing his hand over his forehead, then his chin, to see just how sweaty and gross he is. 

Chris isn’t paying much attention, staring instead at something beside Will. “We might have to burn that table,” he says, a disgusted look crossing his face, though Will clearly knows better now. Will turns and there’s still a plate of toast on one corner besides Chris’s phone, still a fork and a stack of books. There are also several lines of drying come and, he suspects, several patches of invisible dry spit and sweat.

“Gross,” he comments but doesn’t sound like he means it. He misses a beat and Chris moves to stand beside him, staring down at the table.

“Will you stay the rest of the day with me?” comes Chris’s question a few moments later.

Will’s brow furrows and he looks across to Chris’s profile, to his still pink cheeks and his naked body and his sex-messed hair. “I was planning on it,” he says, because it’s his day off and Chris’s house is way more fun than his and now if Chris is willing to ignore his work that makes it even more appealing.

“I mean like this,” Chris amends.

“Having sex like rabbits?” Will scoffs.

Chris laughs and scratches at the base of his ribs. “Just us, I mean. No work or responsibility or… or stuff.”

It dawns on Will what he’s asking and he interlaces their fingers quickly, squeezing tight and pulling Chris closer so their thighs brush and their shoulders knock. “Just us, in love, you mean?”

“Well we’ve never really done that before,” Chris tries, his lips quirking up, his eyes sliding to watch Will’s reaction. “It could be nice.”

Will smile broadens. “It sounds perfect, actually.”

 


End file.
